Without intent, I have collected well over 1,000 beer bottles since the early 70s. When something finally had to be done about the cheap paneling in this old modular, I had a choice. Tear down the walls while, oh, so carefully, replacing the often rotted 1X3s. Or: cover them with… The Bottle Collection.
Written by Ken Carman
Over, or up, there!
Is it a bird?
Is it a million tornadoes, nuclear destruction, or fire, or a flood?
Is it a comet, or an asteroid?
Or will the Mayans just give us the bird?
Being New Years and all, as you may of heard: and if you haven’t you really need to crawl out from under that Stone Mountain-size pebble you’ve been living under, this is the last year for humanity. The Mayans, who somehow missed Cortez and are now extinct, somehow managed to predict that this is the year we’ll all give up our holy, and less than holy, ghosts: or spirits if you will.
So, let’s par-tay!
But if I had to choose only ten beers before the calendar kacks us all… damn this is so hard… which ones would I choose? There’s so many that have been, oh, so delightful. No insult to those who didn’t make the list but still I love. Hey, I was headed to my apocalypse bunker so I grabbed quick.
So here are my top ten: not in order of best to better, or better to best; which is why I used letters instead of 1-10. They’re all just heavenly quaffs to have before I go to hell, or heaven, or the planet Beetlejuice where the death zombie bureaucrats will occupy my time as I avoid sandworms…